Likely Not With This Plot!

The whole world likes to yap. That is not news to any chap. They yap and yap and yap some more. I better stop yapping before I bore. But about the weather they chat, about you they probably won't chew the fat.

Whether old or young,
You may never be stung.
Stung like the rich.
Those out like a glitch.

Many know their name.
They have so called fame.
The right moment in time,
They beat out a mime.

But for every one,
100,000 nos are spun.
The rest have to fight.
Fight to survive the night.

Those around know.
Whether friend or foe.
Can touch each one,
With your daily run.

Making a difference near.
Things most will never hear.
But at the end of the day,
You do it anyway.

It could be the middle.
But let's not diddle.
Diddle about I mean.
Don't go gutter at your scene.

You'll never be like them.
Dripping out golden phlegm.
When you whine no one will hear,
Except those willing to lend an ear.

No one will stalk you,
Unless a crazy lives near your zoo.
No one may take what you say as true.
Of you, most won't have a clue.

No water cooler talk.
Most won't gawk.
Most won't bow down,
Like you have a golden crown.

Fighting for each day,
May always be the way.
But come what may,
In the fight you'll stay.

Is the cat a downer today? Nah, just had that to say. The fight needs to be done as each new day is spun. It can happen to one out of the 100,000 that are spun. Yeah, I pulled that number from my butt. Stats sure are fun at any hut. Most of us may have to walk across broken glass as we remain in the mass. But that glass can be pushed away with gas, like the kind that comes out my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.